


Mother of God by Silverphoenix08

by youngavengersbigbang



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngavengersbigbang/pseuds/youngavengersbigbang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights she yelled, screamed, demanded something more from her life. Others, she would make silent bargains for a different life, a better life. That night, she got her wish and received a god in children's clothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother of God by Silverphoenix08

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nekori Yukito](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nekori+Yukito).



> Given that Billy's younger brothers have yet to be officially named, I hereby dub them "Ivan" and "Noah."
> 
> Notes that contain spoilers are at the end.

The bitter November wind whipped against Rebecca's kitchen window, rattling the screen as the cold winter weather announced its arrival to the exhausted, overworked, and currently irate, psychologist. She sat quietly at the round, oak dining table, fingernails clicking against its polished surface as she glanced time and again at the grandfather clock in the entry hall.

Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. Half an hour. One hour. Two hours. The light rhythm of her fingernails turned into a furious song set to the bridge of a ticking clock, and a chorus of two crying toddlers preceding the coda of the bubblings of a long-since-ready lasagna and the silence of a still absent husband. 

Rebecca felt one of her nails crack as she brought it down at just the perfectly incorrect angle. She closed her eyes; her ears flared to a scarlet hue, and she nodded plainly, a gesture meant to channel her instinctual reflex to lash out at the nearest object; it was a technique she taught to many a patient, an outlet she found worked wonders on her more easily agitated clients. She felt a small prick of chagrin for having to resort to such a trick, then another for feeling inadequate by taking her own advice, but that was quickly drowned out by the seemingly deafening tick of the clock. Almost on queue, the sound of her wailing children returned to her ears. She recognized the cry; the twins were having a hard time falling asleep.

She channeled what little of her frustration was left into walking down the hall and up the stairs, the last bit of her now seemingly unwarranted fury melting at the childrens' door when she saw their pudgy, pale faces looking up at her from their cribs. The twins' eyes always left her heart fluttering, how they shone with an innocence not even the darkest of nights could seem to dim. She gently scooped up the twins, one in each arm, cooing softly as she rocked on her heels and pressed their heads to her chest. She took a few more breaths, her heart slowing to a more relaxing rhythm for her children, and the twins responded in kind with their own lulled murmurs, a hint of their forthcoming slumber. She let out a small, restrained laugh, amused at how her children were so easy to please. Rebecca stood in the darkened nursery with her living legacies and mused. She always told herself that she would nitpick at her children, weeding out any behavioral problems they may develop. But as the cold wind and shadows seemed to encroach upon the three of them, she made a hushed wish to herself, the twins, to whoever was listening: "Don't ever let the world steal the light from your eyes."

For a time, the three of them just stood there, no words or cooing or fussing, just the creaking of the brownstone and the scraping of tree branches against the window. Ivan stirred a little in Rebecca's arm, fussing and reaching for something near his crib. She ignored it at first, wanting to hold her children just a little longer before putting them back to bed. Noah soon joined his brother in trying to squirm from Rebecca's embrace, to which Rebecca finally conceded that she seemed to be the only one of the three enjoying the moment. She laid the twins on their backs, wrapping Ivan, the more rambunctious one, first. Noah, seemingly desperate for freedom, rocked as he tried to crawl away from his mother. Rebecca, for her part, couldn't help but chuckle at her son's adorable efforts.

She looked about the crib for Noah's favorite blanket, catching sight of a corner on the floor beneath the crib. As she reached for it, the corner pulled back and out of sight. She tensed, unsure whether to look beneath the crib or simply grab the children and leave; Rebecca didn't believe in boogeymen, but thanks to the many supernatural woes of New York, she belived in just about everything else. Still, she was curious. She knelt and peered under the crib, only to be met by small, frightened ochre eyes. Rebecca was stunned; there was a child hiding beneath her children. Rebecca reached out, but the little boy pulled back, matching her inch for inch the more she stretched, until he was pressed square against the wall on the other side.

"It's alright," Rebecca whispered. "You're not in trouble, dear." Still, the child didn't come out. She furrowed her brow as she puzzled out what she should do next. She could always scoot the crib away from the wall and grab him, but she deduced that a child this skittish wouldn't particularly like her for that. "How long have you been in here, sweetie?" Her question was greeted by a low growl, one that she knew didn't come from his mouth; she had her solution.  
"You must be starving," Rebecca stated in the most gentle voice she could muster. "Please, sweetie, why don't you come with me and I'll make you some food. Would you like that?" The two stared at each other for a few moments until, finally, the child slowly crawled away from the wall and took Rebecca's hand. She lifted him from under the crib and pressed him against her side as she carried him away from the twins and down to the kitchen. In the light, she could see now that the child was older than her own, possibly five years old, which would make feeding the boy much easier. "Would you like some lasagna? It's really good," she said as she set the boy in one of the chairs at the table. The child didn't really respond, as he seemed more interested in this new room than the things in it. "Well, I'll make you a small piece in case you want to try it, okay?"

She cut a small piece from the casserole dish, microwaved it and set it before her mystery guest, who only gave it a passing glance as he looked around the room. She sat in the chair beside the boy's, waiting to see which of them would speak first. Ultimately, Rebecca's curiosity got the better of her. "Can you tell me your name?"

The boy's gaze fell to the floor as he studdered his response, "William."

"Well William, I'm Rebecca. It's nice to meet you." She smiled. "Sweetie, can you tell me how you got here?"

"I..." William seemed at a loss for words. He looked up at Rebecca, as if she knew the answer. When she didn't say anything, William's eyes began to water. He pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face in his knees as he started to cry. As fate would have it, Jeff had just opened the front door and stepped in as William's wailed even louder.

"Rebecca?! What's going on?" she heard her husband call out from the entryway.

"We..." Rebecca wracked her brain. Frankly, she had no idea what 'we' had. Finally, she said, "We have a guest." Jeff stepped into the kitchen, his gaze first falling to the little boy, then his wife.

"Rebecca, what's going on here? Who is that?"

She stood from her seat and herded Jeff into the living room, looking back to make sure William stayed at the table. Satisfied that they were far enough, she answered him in her low, matter-of-factly tone. "His name is William. I found him upstairs in the twins' room." Jeff immediately looked over to the stairs, to which Rebecca instinctually replied, "Don't worry, they're fine."

"And this kid? How the hell did he get up there?"

"I don't know. When I asked, he started to cry."

"So what, then? Did you leave a window open? Did he break in?" Jeff's voice became a little louder with each question.

"No, I didn't leave a window open," she hissed. "And I don't think he broke in. The window in the twins' room wasn't-"

"Did you call the police?"

"What, no! I found him only a few minutes ago!" Jeff dug into his pocket and fished out his cell phone. "Jeff Kaplan, what are you doing?"

"I'm calling the police to have them take him."

"Jeff!"

"Rebecca, we have to call them! He's not our son."

"It's close to midnight, Jeff. This child is obviously scared out of his mind and likely exhausted from the whole ordeal. Can't we call them in the morning, after he's slept?"

"Are you out of your mind? What if he hurts the twins?"

"I'll keep an eye on him, I won't let-"

"He already got into our home without you noticing, Rebecca! I'm calling-"

"Jeff, they will throw him straight into a group home at this late hour. That's not good for a scared child. At least here, I can watch him and start working with-"

"Damnit Rebecca, he's not one of your patients, and he's not one of our kids!"

"Stop it!" Rebecca and Jeff spun to face the kitchen and saw William standing in the doorway. What's more, they saw the waves and waves of blue light pouring off of his skin, and the dishes in the kitchen floating behind him. "Mom, dad, please stop fighting!"

The couple didn't know what to say, or even where to look, both feeling that if they looked to each other for confirmation of what he just said, they might upset the child even more. Rebecca made the first move, bringing her voice back down to it's calm, sweet tone as she took a few steps toward William. "You're right, sweetie, mommy and daddy shouldn't fight."

"Rebecca-"

"We're sorry, sweetie. We won't fight anymore." Almost as if Rebecca had said the magic words, the blue aura around William faded to nothing, and the dishes behind him unceremoniously fell to the floor. William's eyes drooped, he swayed on his feet, and finally he fell into Rebecca's waiting arms, unconscious. She pulled him close to her chest and stood to face her husband.

"He's a mutant," she whispered.

"Now we really need to call the police."

"No."

"Rebecca-"

"No. If we give him to the police, he'll be branded a freak, he'll be abused in the foster system... For God's sake, Jeff, he might be killed."

"So, your plan is to pretend he's our kid? Do you plan on telling your mother that you magically gave birth to a five year old last night?"

"I'll work out those details later," she said as she began to stroke William's hair. "But yes, that's what I intend to do. This is our new son, Jeff. His name is William."

"Rebecca..."

"I'm sorry, Jeff, but until his mutant parents come here and pry him from my arms, I'm going to watch over him." Rebecca moved to the couch and grabbed a throw blanket to wrap around William. She smiled as she tucked the corners around William's small, sleeping form. "And even then, I won't let those parents off easy. I plan to give them a full lecture on how terrible of parents they are."

Jeff sighed and sat beside his wife, studying William's face as he thought of a response to his wife's iron will. "Can you promise me one thing?"

"What is it?"

"If it turns out this little guy's parents can throw fire or something, skip the lecture."

"I'll think about it." She stroked William's cheek and whispered, "Welcome to the family, William."

**Author's Note:**

> With this artwork, I felt that I had a real opportunity to explore the “origins” of Billy, in regard to how he came to be placed with the Kaplans. In canon, it’s suggested that Billy’s soul was sent into his body when the Scarlet Witch lost her children, but it really never came up or was proven to readers. Here, I saw the chance to explore a possibility where not only Billy’s soul was displaced, but his body as well, and that the Kaplans discovered him and concealed the mystery of his origins to everyone, Billy included.
> 
> With Gillen’s run of Young Avengers still in progress, I also toyed with the idea of attaching a sort of open-ending in which Billy was in his room aboard Noh-Varr’s ship, scouring the multiverse again and coming across this scene from the past, and exploring the psychological effect that seeing this scene play out might have on Billy, his relationship with his parents, and even with Teddy and his fears about the extent of his magical powers. Still, since Gillen’s run has yet to complete, I felt it best to leave this part out, partially due to the mixed reviews of this new run, but also because it’s not something I would like to publically explore until Gillen has explored it himself.


End file.
